Marvelling at Disney+

This past year has been a wreck because of COVID. Whether it’s being uncertain of when the pandemic will become endemic, the mutations being more contagious, or people bickering over whether or not to take the vaccines, it seems like we’re taking two steps backward every time we take one step forward. It’s exhausting. And it’ll probably remain this way for some time.

If one area’s improved from 2020, however, it’s entertainment. Movie theatres are open again, albeit in reduced capacities, and having that part of my life back is a major relief. My Disney+ account has also been getting plenty of use, thanks to quality content that actually appeals to me. It almost makes me forgive my yearly subscription fee increasing to $132, but I digress. What I’d like to focus on is Disney+’s MCU shows, and how they’ve dominated the entertainment cycle. Be prepared for spoilers.

WandaVision-Sitcom:

Beginning the slate of Disney+ content in January, WandaVision, focusing on Wanda Maximoff and the sitcom reality she’s created, is the most unique. Sure, it has a big battle in the finale, but most of it’s a TV sitcom starring superheroes. Or, rather, it’s several TV sitcoms starring superheroes. Or maybe it jumps to several settings? Regardless, it’s not your typical MCU affair.

What makes this one stand out is that it can be enjoyed on two levels. It can be appreciated as a wacky spin-off in The MCU, a literal bubble reality, or as a weirdly charming series akin to something from David Lynch. I know that the latter comparison is overused, especially these days, but here it’s appropriate. This is, after all, a show that feels off enough to distract from its disturbing concept. That’s pretty Lynchian, no?

Once you get past the first three episodes, which I enjoyed, the series splits its attention between the world of Westview, and the “real world” of The MCU. And both are woven together nicely, highlighting how Wanda’s dream reality impacts everyone around her. Even in her bubble world, she’s taken people’s minds hostage so they can “play their parts”. That’s pretty messed up when you think about it. And yet, as we find out in Episode 8, we don’t begrudge her because we see why she created this reality. While not justifiable, we sympathize with her.

I’ve heard complaints about the finale undercutting the show, particularly from people who were mad about “Ralph Bohner”, but I think it sticks the landing. It even subverts the conventions of The MCU by having Vision win his fight with philosophy and Wanda win hers by outsmarting her opponent. It also has a heartbreaking ending where Wanda sacrifices her happiness. And all from a series where each episode uses a different, era-appropriate jingle. I can’t recommend it enough.

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier-Politics:

Moving on to the early-Spring, we have The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Of all the MCU shows this year, it was my least-favourite. That’s not because it sucks, or because it’s boring, but because it has the most-complicated premise. This is the show that tackles the fallout from The Blip directly, so it’s a show about class politics and national borders. It’s not always successful, it misunderstands Anarchy, but if you’re looking for something akin to the Captain America movies? This is your show.

It even carries the grittier tone of Captain America: The Winter Soldier by having its threat feel grounded. This time, it’s a group of revolutionaries called “The Flag Smashers”, led by Karli Morgenthau. All they want is to unify the world, but their methods aren’t squeaky-clean. The show also has a government-anointed Captain America causing problems, especially given his more…gruesome methods. (Seriously, he decapitates someone in Episode 4.)

Despite the self-serious tone, it still retains the charm of The MCU. It has the humour and soul of their best, including a subplot surrounding Bucky’s PTSD. I especially liked the moment where he confesses to an old man he’s befriended that he’d murdered his son. It drives home the ghosts that soldiers often carry from combat, and it was treated with gravitas. If all else, that alone makes The Falcon and the Winter Soldier worth it.

I know what everyone wants me to talk about, though: Karli. Karli’s characterization has taken a beating for misrepresenting Anarchy, and I get it. But while her arc and resolution raise ethical concerns, and perhaps even some racial ones, I think people are being overly-harsh. Because she gets the conversation started about Nationalism, as well as the consequences of global superpowers not addressing the needs of refugees. If all else, that makes the experience worthwhile.

Loki-Hijinks:

Moving on, the late-Spring resolved a dangling plot thread from The Avengers: Endgame with Loki. I was skeptical of how this’d be handled; after all, isn’t Loki’s shtick that he’s a mischief maker? How could a one-note trait, even if it’s been done well in the movies, translate to a series? Well, Loki acknowledges this in its first episode, including a scene where his life gets interrogated by Morbius. It’s brutal, unapologetic and gut-wrenching. And I love it.

I, therefore, was disappointed when the rest of the show neutered Loki’s mischievousness for a Doctor Who-esque story about variants and conspiracies. It didn’t hinder it, Loki teams up with a gender-bent version of himself named Sylvie and takes on The TVA, but it didn’t feel like Loki was the same from the movies. True, Loki teamed up with Thor in Thor: Ragnarok, but that was to suit his own self-interests. Here, however, Loki’s a run-of-the-mill hero, and that’s kinda boring. But I guess we needed a straight-man to Sylvie, so what do I know?

Speaking of which, Sylvie’s a blast! Ignoring how Loki has alternate versions of himself, something that’s lamp-shaded in Episode 5, Sylvie makes Loki. She’s easily the best part, chewing the scenery whenever she’s present, and her chemistry with Loki, while unconventional, makes for great comedy and sincerity. I especially like their escape on Lamentis-1, and how it ends up not mattering. That level of unpredictability is quintessentially Loki!

If I have one complaint about Loki, it’s the finale. Because it doesn’t have one, instead leaving on a tease for a Season 2. It’s basically Netflix’s Cowboy Bebop all-over, except much better. Still, that I now have to wait another year to continue this story, which ends on a depressing note, is maddening. Oh well!

What If…?-Hypothetical:

Arguably my most-anticipated show of the Summer, What If…? is the most unique MCU series visually. It tackles hypothetical scenarios from the first three phases in a hand-drawn/CGI hybrid style of animation. All the episodes are narrated by The Watcher, a cosmic being who serves as a guide through these scenarios. Each episode’s also self-contained, so they can be watched out of order and enjoyed on their own merits. Considering I normally binge these shows leading to their finales, having an episodic structure allowed me to keep up with it weekly instead…

…Is what I would’ve said, but all that goes out the window with Episode 8. The show then pulls a two-parter that ties back to the previous episodes, as well as a hypothetical one that never aired. It’s annoying that the show does that, as I could no longer enjoy it weekly. It also brought back every focal character from the previous episodes to fight Ultron, and that was a head-scratcher. I mean, I get why it did that, it wanted a big battle, but it didn’t need it…right?

Whatever, I guess it’s this show’s Avengers-esque fight. And it’s not like everything ends up meaning nothing, as each of the prior episodes is still fun. Even Episode 7, arguably the weakest, has its moments. Though my favourite is still Episode 4, which focuses on Dr. Strange fixing the timeline so he can be with Christine, only to keep failing. It’s dark and depressing, and it ends in a dark and depressing way, even calling out The Watcher for not breaking his oath to interfere. I love it.

The other episodes are also fun! I like Episode 3 for being a whodunnit story, and Episode 1 for giving Agent Carter a starring role. But I can’t go without mentioning T’Challa as Star Lord. He’s easily the best Star Lord ever, and it saddens me that he was only theoretical. Then again, given Chadwick Boseman’s death, it’s sad that we didn’t get to see him more as T’Challa either…

Hawkeye-Festive:

Beginning with Thanksgiving and ending before Christmas, Hawkeye’s the Winter offering on Disney+. It’s quite interesting too, taking place around Christmas and focusing on Clint’s demons coming back to haunt him. And all while passing the torch to Kate Bishop, an overambitious 20-something who’s his biggest fan. It’s a buddy series, albeit with a superhero premise. I enjoyed it, but I also had some mild reservations. Though I’m getting ahead of myself.

The two best parts are Kate and the show’s antagonist. With the former, I liked her from the show’s first scene, which travels back to The Avengers. She’s dedicated, motivated, ambitious and fun to see on screen, and her optimism immediately sold me. She’s also a clever detective, and the subplot with her mother’s fiancé’s good stuff. I even liked how she took on Kingpin almost singlehandedly, beating him with her wits.

For the latter, Echo’s interesting in her own right. It’d have been easy to use her disabilities as punchlines, but the show was clever enough to not do that. She’s basically a victim of Clint’s stint as Ronin, her father having-supposedly-died at his hands, and she wants revenge. But revenge doesn’t suit her, so she’s conflicted. It’s an interesting parallel to Kate being enamoured with Clint, to the point of fixation. Plus, conversing in ASL the whole time was neat.

I guess my issue with Hawkeye is Clint. This is the third time where he was set up to die, and it copped out yet again. Not that I mind the ending, his reunion with his family was heartwarming, but considering he had Echo, The Tracksuits, Kingpin and Yelena from Black Widow after him, as well as Kate being handed the torch, it feels like a running joke at this point. Still, if it means seeing Clint console Yelena and convincing her not to take his life, which I liked, then I guess I’ll forgive it. But I really could’ve done with an emotional send-off...

And there you go: the 5 MCU shows that debuted on Disney+. I don’t know if this’ll become a recurring series, but either way, I’ll see you all in 2022!

Spider-Man's Back, Baby!

(Warning: this piece contains spoilers for Spider-Man: No Way Home. Read at your own risk.)

I saw Spider-Man: No Way Home in theatres.

Despite being packed, making me incredibly uncomfortable with COVID protocols, spending almost 2.5 hours with a nearly-full auditorium ruled. It was something I hadn’t experienced since the pandemic started in March of 2020. And you know something? I missed it badly.

I’m not kidding! Despite my issues with the modern theatre-going experience, there’s an energy that comes with watching movies with others. When they laugh, you feel it. When they cheer, you feel it. When they cry, you feel it. And when they gasp…you get the picture.

This was especially true with Spider-Man: No Way Home. MCU films are generally riveting, but this one was unique. This was Spider-Man, one of the most popular and well-known comic IPs ever. A lot of expectation was being shouldered on this film, especially as a trilogy-capper. Add in that the previous movie, Spider-Man: Far From Home, ended on a twist, a rather dark one, and the anticipation was through the roof.

Did it deliver? Yes. Which is surprising, considering what could’ve gone wrong. The premise and story-threads alone could’ve sunk it: it had to not only bring back 5 villains from 2 franchises, it also had tie up loose ends from said franchises while feeling earned and natural. And it still had to be a satisfying follow-up to The MCU’s take on Spider-Man. That’s a big ask for a movie of any kind.

I think it worked because, despite its setup, it still felt small and personal. This is a movie about a character making his life worse trying fix it. He screws up, pays for it, loses people close to him and makes difficult sacrifices. It’s all pretty heavy, but it’s quintessential Spider-Man storytelling. Because that’s what it means to be a relatable hero, right?

I don’t need to tell you this, as the audience’s energy throughout sold that. Going back to the reactions, when characters in the movie made jokes, the audience laughed hard. When Matt Murdock’s actor returned from Daredevil, or when Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield showed up, the audience cheered so hard I felt the ground vibrating. When Aunt May died, almost everyone cried. And when Maguire’s Spider-Man got stabbed by The Green Goblin’s glider, I heard audible gasps.

All the while, I was thinking to myself, “Spider-Man’s back, baby!”. Because while I’ve enjoyed the previous MCU Spider-Man films, they’ve also felt a little light. This one, however, had that missing ingredient from the Raimi films in the early/mid-2000’s. It was personal, intimate and, most-importantly, emotional. And that’s what I wanted.

I think that’s what other people wanted too. I know the claims of Martin Scorsese are still weighing on my mind, making me self-doubt myself for liking corporately-crafted action movies, but I don’t care. I disagreed then, and I disagree now. I think there’s plenty of merit to commercially viable franchise bait, irrespective of whether or not it crowds out smaller, more ambitious stories.

Besides, is that really the fault of a well-made movie? No. Honestly, the modern filmgoing experience is already non-conducive to attending it: the ticket prices are outrageous, the theatres are packed full of annoying people, you’re not treated with respect half the time, and the ads take up too much time. Sure, the end result’s worth putting up with that, but I’m in the minority. Many people only go to the theatre now if they feel it’s worth it, and that’s not often.

I think movies like Spider-Man: No Way Home are part of why they’d go at all. Is it another superhero blockbuster? Yes. Is it “crowding out” other movies? Maybe. Is it the best-written movie of the year? Not by a long shot!

But it doesn’t matter. Because quality isn’t the ultimate, defining factor in entertainment, and because the filmgoing experience is too subjective to fit in a neat box. As I’ve said in the past, it’s nobody’s business if you find a commercially viable, self-referential experience moving. Life’s too short and precious to be a gatekeeper.

Ultimately, Spider-Man: No Way Home’s a solid reminder of the staying power of these kinds of movies. It may not “hold up” narratively over multiple re-watches, but emotionally? I think it has that in the bag. It even utilizes the theme of redemption efficiently, reclaiming the legacies of Maguire and Garfield while also humanizing their rogues galleries. You have to know what you’re doing for that to not feel ham-fisted or lame, and this movie does!

*****

As you’ve no doubt noticed, this year I’ve cut back on my monthly content. The reason’s quite obvious: I’m working two part-time jobs, and it’s taxing mentally to focus on that and constantly put out new content. I know this means less engagement on my Blog, but I definitely think the trade-off’s worth it. Perhaps I’ll surprise you all with my final piece of the year, there’s roughly a week and a half left of 2021, but until then I’ll see you next time!

"Sayonara, Space Cowboy!"

So Netflix discontinued Cowboy Bebop.

The obvious reaction would be me yelling “Good riddance!”, but I won’t. Not only would it be petty, but it’d ignore the effort that went into it. Art isn’t 100% good or bad 100% of the time, and even trashy art has merits. Since the show was tolerable, and I feel bad for being so negative, I think it’s only fair to discuss 7 aspects I thought were decent, great, or-in some cases-an improvement over the anime. Here goes:

1. The casting:

The cast in this show either looks the part, sounds the part, or both. Even the newcomers, like The Iron Mink, are a lot of fun to watch. You can forgive a lot when a cast is trying their darnedest, and this is no exception. Because everyone seems to care, and even when a portrayal doesn’t land (like Eden Perkins as Ed), it’s clear that the actor behind it is passionate and wants to do their best. That speaks volumes.

Take the main trio. John Chu, Mustafa Shakir and Daniella Pineda, who play Spike, Jet and Faye, not only fit their roles, but elevate them beyond the material. And they have excellent chemistry, such that you genuinely feel like they’d work together. It’s enough to ignore that this version of Faye is Mexican instead of Chinese, or that Jet’s now black (not that actually makes a difference). A premise lives or dies on your protagonists, and they understood their assignments.

But it extends to the supporting cast too. The stars of Big Shot are, arguably, the most-faithful recreation of the anime, right down to the cartoonish accents they put on. And there’s plenty of diverse casting that makes this world feel lived-in. Even the aforementioned Perkins, who shows up briefly as Radical Ed, is doing their best with the material, and they also look the part. So while the show may be “bad”, you can’t blame anyone for not trying.

2. The aesthetics:

On the subject of pitch-perfect, the general aesthetic is also excellent. Netflix brought on the anime’s director, Shinichirō Watanabe, as a creative consultant, and you can tell. The general vibe has been translated to a teat, with the space cruisers looking and sounding as good as ever. Even the medicine and technology, which were important in the anime, were ported over with no hiccups, and in some ways expanded on. Again, that’s impressive.

It goes further than that, though. The original composer, Yoko Kanno, has returned, and she hasn’t missed a beat since 1998. She even, on occasion, brings new material, thanks to the episodes being twice as long. We don’t hear all of it, because the writing never lets us, but when we do…it’s great. I especially like that Julia has her own solo, something missing from the anime.

As a final note, the call backs look excellent. Are they tacked-on? Yes. Do they fall into the “have your cake and eat it too” category of fan-service? Also yes. But they’re recreated faithfully, which is hard to do when transitioning mediums.

3. Julia:

One character I think was improved on completely, right up until the finale, was Julia. See, Julia in the anime was…a plot point. She never had much to her outside of being Spike’s past fling, and her death in Episode 26, while unfortunate, held little weight because of that. It’s a shame because every other female character felt real, thanks to head writer Keiko Nobumoto lending her feminine touch, so it was jarring. I know she wasn’t important outside of the 5 story-centric episodes, but couldn’t she have been more interesting?

Well, the Netflix adaptation’s show-runners had that on their minds too. Instead of being one-note, this time Julia has depth. She’s vulnerable, she has aspirations, she’s stuck in an abusive marriage, she even plots to thwart Vicious’s goals of overtaking The Syndicate. And while some of her lines are atrocious, Elena Satine makes them work anyway. She’s easily the best part of the subplot with Vicious!

Unfortunately, there’s her conclusion. And yes, I stand by her “Girl Boss” turn being a slap in the face, even if shooting Vicious is so satisfying. Still, as with everything else, Satine sells it. That’s not easy to do, but she does. It almost makes me wish I could’ve seen more post-Season 1.

4. The premise of Episode 7:

Episode 7, minus the Vicious subplot, is easily the best. It’s not anime-levels of good, it doesn’t even compare to the anime’s worst episode, but the show-runners and writers clearly put the most effort into it. I think it’s because they merged anime Faye’s two most-important character episodes into something new, all the while staying true to their essence. This is probably the only episode I’d consider passable. I only wish the other episodes were…

For those unaware, Episode 7 reinterprets “My Funny Valentine” and “Speak Like a Child”. Those two episodes were crucial to Faye’s character development, and they’re two of my favourites. In Netflix’s version, they’re merged and tweaked. Here, Faye’s lover becomes her foster mother, and they bounce off each other really well. You genuinely believe that Faye was adopted by this woman before being abandoned, and that she’s now only agreeing to not turn her in because she needs her.

I also like how despite the ending being a nearly shot-for-shot recreation, it feels earned. I especially like the one change to the payoff, Faye finding her childhood recording stored on a VHS, as it makes more sense than the Betamax scavenger hunt Spike and Jet went on in the anime. That never fully made sense to me, feeling forced and contrived, so I’m glad Netflix’s adaptation fixed that. It’s a nice update. Hooray for small victories!

5. Faye rescuing Jet and Spike in the finale:

In another example of a change that works in its favour, we have this moment in Episode 10. Faye not chasing after Spike when he goes to confront Vicious in the anime always bothered me. I mean, she had feelings for him, and him abandoning her was hurtful, so why not? It’d not only give her an awesome moment, but it might’ve even saved Spike’s life. But I’m 23 years late on that one…

…Is what I would’ve said, until now. Because, again, the show-runners had that on their minds with this change. Could it have been foreshadowed better? Maybe. Is the line, “Welcome to the ouch, motherfuckers!” cringe-worthy? Absolutely, and I’d smack whoever thought it was acceptable. But it works.

It actually works too well, honestly. Because now I can’t go back and not picture what could’ve been. Faye saving the day isn’t only nice fanfic, it’s something I think was lacking in the anime. It’s not like Faye hadn’t done it in other episodes (see “Mad Pierrot le Fou”), so why not here? How did the Netflix series outdo the anime on that front?

6. Kimmy:

Kimmy’s a Netflix inclusion. She wasn’t a character in the anime. In fact, it was never suggested that Jet had fostered a child in the anime! He had a girlfriend who broke up with him, but the closest he got to being a “dad” was Meifa in “Boogie Woogie Feng Shui”. And that’s regarded by fans to be its worst episode.

Nevertheless, I like Kimmy. She not only adds to Jet’s character, giving him personal stakes, but the two have genuine chemistry. You feel like they want to be together, yet can’t. It’s sad, too. And that’s why it works.

I’ve heard that Kimmy’s a Cassie clone from the Ant-Man films, complete with a similar relationship to her father. I see it, but do I care? Not really. Because, to quote an old adage, “there’s nothing new under the Sun”. If the anime remixed classic film genres and made it work, then why can’t the Netflix show do the same with a character dynamic?

7. The hallway fight in Episode 9:

Finally, I want to give a shout-out to this set piece in Episode 9. The premise is that Spike has gone to a rival cartel’s headquarters to kill everyone and prevent an all-out war. The scene is several minutes long, brutal and really well-choreographed. And best of all? It’s done in one take.

I love it! Like with Kimmy, this was Netflix-only. It’s also heavily-inspired by Oldboy. But if it means getting to seeing Spike flex his action muscles, then does it matter? Remember, “there’s nothing new under the Sun”.

I want to zone-in on how difficult it must’ve been to film. Remember, one takes are exactly as they sound: they’re done in one take. A lot of preparation goes in to making them work, including factoring in room for mistakes. It’s even harder with a fight scene, which contains plenty of movement. And even knowing all of that, this was still pulled off swimmingly. If that’s not proof that someone cared while making this show, I don’t know what is.

So there you go: 7 aspects of Netflix’s Cowboy Bebop that I liked. It’s too bad the show’s cancelled, as I’m sure it could’ve expanded with another season. Oh well!

Netflix Be Boppin'?

Cowboy Bebop didn’t need a remake.

I say that not because it was “flawless”. Not only have I shared my problems with the writing before, but it also had an uncomfortable subplot that reeked of transphobia in one of its episodes. Rather, I say it because the show was lightning in a bottle, a snapshot of an era that only worked because of the right circumstances. Recreating that, aside from being disrespectful, would be a recipe for failure. But since corporations can’t say no, it got remade.

To be fair, a live-action remake had been in the works for a while. Like I said on Infinite Rainy Day, there’d been talks of one since the mid-2000’s, when Keanu Reeves was rumoured to star as Spike Spiegel. It went through delays, development hell, retools and studio changes, until it finally made its way to Netflix. So now that we have a live-action Cowboy Bebop, how is it? Is it worth the binge?

In order to answer those questions, I think we need asterisks. Because the show’s quality is lacklustre, but the final episode changes the reason why. I could easily write a rant on the finale alone, and put a pin in that, but since it’s unfair to the other 9 episodes, I should discuss my thoughts in general. Be prepared for spoilers.

Cowboy Bebop is a 10-episode series that shuffles sequences and storylines from the 1998 classic. It still follows a band of bounty hunters, or “cowboys”, and their hijinks in space, but it expands on Spike’s Syndicate past and makes it a running thread. An odd choice, especially when it focuses on the show’s antagonist, Vicious, and tries fleshing him out more. It also has a subplot about Jet’s daughter, who I’m pretty sure was invented for the Netflix series.

Right away, it’s pretty obvious what the show’s biggest problem is: it feels like two different shows vying for attention. The first is a drama about three misfits who struggle to balance their jobs with their personal lives. And this isn’t bad material! Some of it’d be, dare I say, fantastic in a different show. The struggle Jet has with his daughter, for example, is easily the best subplot!

Unfortunately, there’s a second show in here, and it’s where the experience routinely trips over its own feet. See, this is a live-action Cowboy Bebop, and it makes no secret of that. Every episode’s jam-packed with references and call backs to the anime, and it’s excessive. Each of the episodes has plenty of “remember this?” moments, except “updated” for 2021. They don’t even feel organic, instead checking off ingredients in the ‘Memberberry Soup recipe.

I feel bad pointing this out. An adaptation should be judged as its own entity. But Cowboy Bebop wants to have its cake and eat it too. So I really have no choice here, and that includes the references that make you nostalgic for the anime.

You know what doesn’t help? The writing. The original anime was notorious, even in Otaku circles, for subtlety and restraint, thanks to Keiko Nobumoto. Nobumoto, who also penned my favourite anime series ever, was a brilliant writer, and her characters often said a lot with relatively little. It was a decision partly inspired by time restraints, but it worked. (It actually might’ve worked a little too well...)

So how does the Netflix series fill its time? With padding. Aside from extra content, it also has lots of fluffy dialogue. Some of the conversations are cringeworthy, while others belong in a different show altogether. It doesn’t help that the characters swear excessively, such that it’d be too much even for Quentin Tarantino. That’s not good, and it takes you out of the experience.

This all sounds bad, but I gave it the benefit of the doubt because there was something there. Then the last episode happened, and everything changed. The show went from mediocre with occasional greatness, to flat-out embarrassing. I could stand the dialogue, the call backs and the episode padding. But I drew the line at butchering a character in service of “updating” the show.

In an interview, the show-runner mentioned that he wanted to be respectful while also giving a new spin. I can see that, and I get it, but that last episode really misses the mark. The way it resolves the relationship between Vicious, Spike and Julia, which is crucial to story, ruins what’d been established prior. Not to mention, it contradicts Julia’s arc.

It starts fine enough: Julia, who’s been placed under confinement, convinces one of the female Syndicate members to let her reunite with Spike. Spike, having been recently rescued by Faye (in a rare improvement over the anime), heads back to the church he was held hostage in to confront Vicious. He climbs to the top tower, and the two fight in a moment that hearkens back to their confrontations from the anime. Everything plays out beat-for-beat, until Julia shoots Vicious (in another rare improvement). She then asks why Spike never looked for her in the years he was presumed dead, and he has no satisfying answer.

Then the show goes all “Girl Boss”, with Julia knocking out Vicious, sending Spike through the window and claiming her place as head of The Syndicate. This makes absolutely no sense, and it’s actively frustrating. Yes, her reclaiming agency is great. Yes, she deserves a happy ending. And yes, drawing a blank at Vicious is a nice callback to an earlier episode. But Julia’s journey was about breaking free of The Syndicate. She’d never expressed interest in joining the organization that abused her before, so why now?

Seriously, I’d pull a “Tell me you don’t understand the original series, without telling me you don’t understand the original series” line, but what good would a meme do?

To top it off, the show throws in one last insult by having a drunk and downtrodden Spike meeting a hyperactive Radical Edward. And it doesn’t work. Bless Eden Perkins for trying, but the original show’s Ed, for all her quirks, knew when to show restraint. Ed was the reason I got into Cowboy Bebop in the first place, having been in a bad place in 2008 mentally and needing something to, in a weird way, keep me grounded. It’s baffling how this adaptation got Ed so wrong, especially when everyone else was done reasonably well.

But that’s the problem with this adaptation: it doesn’t understand itself. When it’s not actively pissing you off, it’s superficially reminding you what made Shinichirō Watanabe and Keiko Nobumoto’s work great to begin with. Which is a shame, as there’s potential for excellence here. The casting’s great, the chemistry’s excellent, the art and set designs are top-notch, Yoko Kanno returns with her music selections, and it manages to be more LGBTQ-friendly than the anime. Everything’s great on the surface, but the writing and story choices are baffling. That’s not a good sign for something that was stalled for over a decade.

Ultimately, Cowboy Bebop left me sad and tired. It made me miss the anime. And it made me doubt whether the anime was even good. But most-importantly, it reminded me why animation deserves more credit. Because the anime’s so good that even people who normally hate anime like it! I can’t say that here.

So yes, avoid this adaptation. Or, better yet, watch the anime! It’s currently on Netflix, and you’ll have an infinitely better time. That much I guarantee!

Marvel's Eternal Connundrum

It’s official: The MCU’s released a dud.

It seems like a bigger deal than it is, as they’ve gone 26 movies without one, but given how the internet reacted to the news, it felt like the world was ending. But it’s not. It was inevitable, assuming the Netflix and primetime shows don’t count, and I’m impressed it took so long. So let’s discuss Eternals. Be prepared for light spoilers.

I’ll get the elephant in the room out of the way: you wouldn’t know Eternals was “bad” from the marketing. The trailers were no worse than other MCU entries, the directing was solid and the casting was really strong. This was also a passion project for Chloé Zhao, one she’d fought for for some time. Given her recent awards for Nomadland, and how Kevin Feige was impressed by some of her shot compositions, nothing indicated a disaster. So what went wrong?

It’s tough to say. Zhao was working with bizarre and confusing material. Jack Kirby might’ve been a legend in the world of comics, but the concept for The Eternals opened a Pandora’s Box that, to this day, remains divisive. It doesn’t help that adapting it for the 21st Century meant updating concepts that haven’t aged well, particularly the Deviants. She had serious handicaps from the get-go.

You see that in the movie itself. Theoretically, the premise isn’t unsalvageable: 10 super-powered beings fight human-eating predators while questioning their purpose. That alone could make for something great, especially with the right amount of sensitivity. Unfortunately, much of the story’s expository pondering about humanity, the meaning of life and if the ends justify the means. Add in time jumps, and that The MCU has struggled when it’s focused too heavily on world-building, and I’m surprised the movie doesn’t trip over itself more often.

For example, one scene deals with Hiroshima. In it, Phastos ponders if his desire to help society advance was a mistake, given the human propensity for violence and destruction. It’s interesting, and it could’ve made for a story on its own, but since this is The MCU’s first openly-gay character, it’s icky. And yes, you read that correctly.

That’s the movie’s biggest issue: it’s littered with writing decisions and concepts that don’t work. Ikaris’s villain arc, aside from cribbing Watchmen’s Ozymandias, has so many weird highs and lows that its resolution, jettisoning himself into The Sun, comes from nowhere and doesn’t feel earned. Nor does Sprite’s crush on Ikaris, or her desire to live a human life. Even Thena’s conflict, her struggle to control her free will, is lopsided, and while it ends nicely, it’s a serious head-scratcher.

These choices are peppered throughout, making everything lacklustre. And the climax, in which 8 of the Eternals band together to prevent a Celestial from destroying Earth, has so many left-field moments that it feels less satisfying than it should. Seriously, count them. If you can do that, congratulations! Pat yourself on the back.

Arguably the biggest failing is the emotional core. There are many scenes that should’ve made me cry, but didn’t. And it’s because the script didn’t get me invested in the Eternals’ inner dilemmas. That’s not a good sign considering The MCU once made me teary-eyed over a raccoon grieving a sentient tree. What happened?

I feel bad for pointing this out. There’s a lot of sincerity here that’s missing in some of The MCU’s best. The casting is diverse. There’s a sex scene that feels genuine. The movie has a gay man and a deaf girl of prominence, and neither feels forced. Even the acting’s leagues above the writing, elevating moments that’d otherwise feel mediocre.

That’s why discussing this movie is so difficult. I wanted to love Eternals, and there were moments where I genuinely enjoyed myself. But while it’s not good, there’s too much that works here for me to despise it altogether. Even Thor: The Dark World wore its mediocrity like ratty clothing, but Eternals? I’m not sure what to think of Eternals!

I know movie watching is subjective and personal. Eternals, therefore, is no different. If someone loves it, I can see the case for why. Conversely, if someone despises it, I can also see that. But myself? I don’t know. It takes a lot to actively turn me off from a movie, but I might need to re-watch this one a few more times to properly assess it. That’s how odd it is.

I also think the discourse surrounding the film’s existence has been blown way out of proportion. Is it the worst movie ever? Not really. I wouldn’t even call it the worst superhero movie ever, there are several other candidates that better fit that. But is it a good movie? No, and that’s okay. We’ve gone this long without a dud from The MCU, and that’s commendable. Besides, Eternals being bad doesn’t matter in the grand scheme. Not at this stage.

Now then, about Hawkeye…

Flip the Switch

I loved the Wii U. It was a great update of the Wii, and it had really neat and innovative ideas built into it (like a controller that doubled as a tablet.) True, its library was small, and its marketing sucked, but I appreciated its brilliance. Its few games were also really good. I can’t lie about that.

While this won’t be me discussing the Wii U’s under-utilized potential, the console’s strengths have definitely carried forward with the Switch. Ignoring how well its games have done, the console is a living, breathing Wii U 2.0 that learned from its direct predecessor’s mistakes. That should be appreciated more, and I don’t think a lot of the conversation talks about that. So that’s what I’ll do.

To begin, let’s go back to the Switch’s initial announcement. A lot of people weren’t sold at first glance, I think prior expectations were to blame, but it’s also important to remember Nintendo’s position in 2017. The Wii U was their worst-selling console outside the Virtual Boy, and much of their goodwill had dissipated. It didn’t help that the Wii’s casual fanbase, who were responsible for much of its success, had departed, and that little effort was put into differentiating the two consoles. So it’s easy to see the skepticism.

But I wasn’t skeptical. Like I said, I loved the Wii U. And I like Nintendo products. I wasn’t bothered by Wii Music’s reveal at E3 2008, so it was enough to cool the initial disappointment. Still, despite 1-2-Switch showing real promise, especially for the visually-impaired, Nintendo’s presentation was pretty lacklustre overall. It was forced, the transitions were choppy and many of the games left much to be desired. I was hopeful, true, but there’d have to be something special to make this work.

And there was. Ignoring The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, early rumours of the Switch being easier to program than the Wii U helped. And they were founded, as third-party developers started porting their titles to the system in droves. It was as if the last 5 years no longer mattered. Nintendo was back.

Which brings me to the Switch. I bought mine in 2008, months after launch, and it was an expensive purchase. But while it took time to recoup my investment, I wasn’t unhappy. Unlike the Wii U, which I got 5 years late, second-hand and with hardware glitches, my Switch was fresh from the assembly line. It was also, unlike my Wii U, easy to set up. Whereas my Wii U took close to 2 hours to activate, my Switch only took about 15 or so minutes. That’s a big difference.

It helped that the console had true portability. Not that the Wii U didn’t have portability, it did, but there were limitations. For one, the undocked mode had to be used on the tablet, which was heavy and uncomfortable. Additionally, it had to be used within range of the console. Because the Wii U used discs, like the Wii before it, the tablet was less portable and more a satellite extension of the console. Add in the poor battery life, and it often made handheld play a hassle.

The Switch wasn’t like that. Being cartridge-based, like the DS line, portability was easy. You inserted the game in the top slot, closed the hatch and pressed the power button. It was as simple as that, and even simpler to use in handheld mode. Not only could you play your game attached to the TV screen, you could take it on the go too. And you could switch options with ease.

Even in handheld mode you had options. Want to play the Switch like a tablet? You can. Want to have multiple people use the same Switch? Detach the controllers, prop the console on its kickstand and have fun. Want to play with multiple Switches? You can do that too.

That was the Switch’s greatest secret: options. The console had taken the best of the Wii U and the best of the DS and merged them into one. It helped that internet connectivity, which was a sore spot with past Nintendo products, was streamlined to be more efficient. Combine that with multiple offline modes, and it’s no wonder the Switch is a hot-seller.

The games library helped. First and second-party titles were always the go-to for Nintendo systems, but Switch entries were so well-suited they kept selling like hotcakes. Even many Wii U ports sold like nobody’s business, showing that the right platform could sell anything. It’s no wonder that cult franchises, like Pikmin and Metroid, did so well, vastly outperforming their predecessors.

Does this mean the Switch doesn’t have its areas of improvement? No. Aside from online play being laggy, voice chat leaves much to be desired. I also wish true HD existed in handheld mode, and that the system wasn’t prone to scratching. The software and hardware isn’t cheap either, and the online emulation of older games is enough to drive people mad. Oh, and the Switch Lite having non-detachable controllers is a mistake.

But those are minor setbacks. Let’s face it: the Switch is a dream machine. It takes everything I loved about the Wii U, builds on it and eliminates most of its predecessor’s limitations. It’s also lightweight and easier on the hands. Most-importantly, however, it’s intuitive, which makes a difference. Here’s hoping Nintendo’s next console adds to what Nintendo’s learned!

Isn't It (Un)ironic?

Roughly three years ago, I critically examined a Christmas classic. Earlier this year, I followed that up with a takedown of a New Year’s Eve song. It’s only fitting that I complete the trifecta with a deconstruction of something I despise: “Ironic”, by Alanis Morissette. Keep in mind that I rarely despise songs, even trashy ones, so that should already be a red flag.

What’s “Ironic”? It’s a 1995 hit about situations Morissette deems “ironic”. In theory, this should be a no-brainer. Irony’s present everywhere in life, be it intentional or unintentional, so there’s plenty of material to work with. It helps that the tune’s also catchy, making it stand out. The only problem?

The lyrics.

Let’s start with a working definition. To quote Merriam-Webster, irony is:

“…[A] situation that is strange or funny because things happen in a way that seems to be the opposite of what you expected.”

This is their second definition, FYI. Regardless, irony implies a contradiction of intent. To use a famous example, Donald Dean Summerville, the 53rd mayor of Toronto, had a massive heart attack and died during a hockey tournament promoting The Heart and Stroke Foundation. The incident was tragic, but also ironic. (It’s also an extreme example.)

Irony is easy to write about: a person having a heart attack at a charity event for heart health? That’s ironic. An organization advocating for the ethical treatment of animals while secretly euthanizing dogs? Cruel, but also ironic. A politician claiming to rid politics of corruption, only to be revealed to be corrupt? Obnoxious, but ironic.

Unfortunately, Morissette’s song misses the boat. To be fair, not all her scenarios are bad candidates in theory: a man too cautious to fly dying in the first plane he boards? Maybe. A traffic jam when you’re already late for work? Again, maybe. These are decent setups, but they lack the extra punch.

And then the chorus ruins everything by using clichés as ironies. I mean, “rain on your wedding day” is obnoxious, and I know people who’ve experienced it, but is it “ironic”? Not really. It’s more unfortunate, and it’s a really bad example. Additionally, ignoring free advice is stupid and short-sighted.

This is the problem with Morissette’s song: her scenarios, while strange, don’t fit the criteria for irony. Some, like the plane and the traffic jam, come close, but they’re incomplete. Because irony needs both a setup and a payoff. Like a joke, the punchline has to work to really land.

I’m not the first person to criticize Morissette’s song. Aside from radio stations refusing to air it following 9/11, it’s been chastised for not understanding “irony” frequently. In particular, Stephen Thomas Erwine called that out in his review. So it’s like flogging a dead horse now, especially 26 years later. It’s not even fair, honestly.

However, there’s actually one irony here that does land, despite all evidence to the contrary. It’s the song’s title. “Ironic” could’ve been titled “Tragic” and still worked. It could’ve also been titled “Unfortunate”. It could’ve even been titled “Oh Crap Moments” and been on-the-nose, but…well, you get the picture.

Regardless, it was titled “Ironic”. And in having its name be “Ironic”, all while not containing irony, it qualifies by accident. That’s ironic. Which is shocking, frightening and really annoying for someone like myself, who majored in English in university. I should know, I’ve gotten the concept wrong many times!

So what now? I don’t know. The song’s been in the zeitgeist for decades, and it’s routinely played on Canadian airwaves. It also, like I said in the beginning, is really catchy. I may not like it, but I often find myself humming the chords from time to time. I guess it’s an ear-worm?

Yet it getting stuck in my head is a problem. “Baby It’s Cold Outside” has an infectious and upbeat charm that, outside of its lyrics, is fun to belt annually. “Imagine” has a hopeful message about world unity. “Ironic”, though? I’ve never gotten that, as much as I’ve tried. Ignoring its misuse of “ironic”, its lyrics aren’t even that inspired. This isn’t even a dig at Morissette, a woman who knew “My Humps” was parody-worthy.

Still, why is this the song she’s most remembered for? Why is this the one that routinely gets played? Why is it the one that made the billboards? And why is this, from her entire oeuvre, the most talked about? Why “Ironic”?

I have two theories. The cynical one is that Morissette isn’t that great a songwriter. Sure, her lyrics and tunes are “catchy”, but she lacks insight. “Ironic”, therefore, is easy to ridicule, a catchy ditty that’s fun to mock. But that’s underselling her, so I’m not convinced.

The optimistic one is that the song inspires hope. Sure, the lyrics are ridiculous. Yes, it doesn’t understand its own thesis statement. And true, it’s fun to mock. But it speaks to frustrations that occur in real life, ones we can all relate to. That’s more important than accuracy.

Does that mean I now like “Ironic”? No. The song’s awful! But I can respect it for what it’s attempting. It doesn’t work, but I admire its attempt. And that’s what counts.

Big and Small

I watched Dune.

It was interesting! Not amazing, and it felt incomplete, but I liked how it tackled imperialism. It’s also nice to see an inspiration for the Star Wars franchise not be panned. (I’m looking at you, John Carter!) So yes, definitely worth a recommendation.

Unfortunately, the movie’s existence has fed into resurgent toxicity. It’s not helped by several directors opening their mouths. These include Christopher Nolan and Denis Villeneuve, both of whom believe you should watch a movie on an IMAX screen. That, according to them, is where they’re at their best. But are they?

I’m not one to judge preferences. Remember, I like The MCU! And I get the sentiment for wanting a theatre experience. There’s an energy to watching films with an audience: you can laugh when they laugh, cheer when they cheer, gasp when they gasp and cry when they cry. It’s something you don’t get alone.

So yes, I see where they’re coming from. What bothers me is when that’s matched with how it’s “the only way”. To quote Villeneuve from August of this year:

“Frankly, to watch Dune on a television, the best way I can compare it is to drive a speedboat in your bathtub. For me, it’s ridiculous. It’s a movie that has been made as a tribute to the big-screen experience.”

Like I said, far be it from me to criticize preferences. But insisting the only way to enjoy movies is in theatres bugs me. It assumes everyone can make it there, which is a big ask, and it implies that a movie doesn’t work in other formats. If the latter were true, many classics wouldn’t have survived the era of VHS. Yes, the format with piss-poor sound and image compression.

I’ve heard this before, though. I’ve heard that streaming is “killing cinema”. And I’ve heard that more people need to “watch movies in theatres”. I’ve heard these claims so frequently that it’s tiresome. So let’s do a mental exercise, shall we? Let me walk you through my cinema experience pre-COVID:

It begins days before I go to see the movie. Because I’m financially limited, I often read reviews in advance. If the reviews are strong, I’m interested. If not, I either avoid it, or wait until I have a free movie from the SCENE points I’ve accrued. I wouldn’t want to waste my money.

But let’s say I decide to see the film. I have to look for a date, time and location that works. Because I can’t always see something immediately, I need to block off part of my day. And because I can’t drive, I have to check the transit schedule. This could take up to an hour, and that ignores transit delays.

Okay, I’m at my destination. I now must walk to the actual theatre, climb the stairs and, depending on popularity, wait in a long line for tickets. (I know digital kiosks exist, but often there are lines there too.) Many of the other people are rowdy and annoying, and sometimes they block access to the line itself. It could take a while before I purchase the ticket, and occasionally the showing might even be sold out.

If all goes well, I pay for my overpriced ticket and make my way to, assuming I’m interested, the equally-overpriced concessions where-you guessed it-there’s another line of rowdy and annoying people. This also takes a while, leading to anxiety. I swipe my debit card, get my SCENE points and retrieve the concessions. Now it’s off to the ticket booth. Sounds simple enough, right?

But wait! I forgot to go to the bathroom! Now I have to ask an employee where the washrooms are, tuck away my concessions-unless I got popcorn, in which case I’m screwed-and head to the nearest stall. Assuming I’m not grossed out, I do my business and proceed to wash my hands with a dispenser that barely gives me soap and a tap that often doesn’t work. This doesn’t account for there being no paper towel, in which case I use the air dryer.

I finally get to the auditorium, find a seat at the back, because I don’t like the front, and wait for the previews. After what seems like forever, and more people pile in, I then am barraged with advertisements and car commercials before the trailers. And once the trailers, which take about 15 minutes, are over, I can finally enjoy myself for 2+ hours…assuming the lights from people’s phones, the loud noises of chairs, the interruptions of late-arrivals looking for seats and the sounds of kids and babies don’t pull me out of the experience.

If I’m being unfair, it’s to prove a point. I love the theatre! I used to go often before the pandemic! But I had to turn a blind eye to what came with that, and most of it wasn’t fun. I’m not alone, as theatre attendance has been dwindling over the last decade. And with streaming eliminating the hassle of the theatre experience, I’m not surprised that venues are in trouble.

So with all due respect to Denis Villeneuve, I don’t agree that the only way to experience a movie is in theatres. Does that mean streaming doesn’t have its own problems? No, and I’ve covered that before. But the trade-off’s noticeable, and that needs to be acknowledged here.

Besides, a movie’s true test is if it can be watched at home anyway. Remember, movies only run in cinemas for so long before they’re moved to streaming, where most of their viewing takes place. A movie has to endure that too. And if it can’t? Then it was never that great to begin with.

Ultimately, I don’t like the assertion that movies only work in theatres. If that makes me a heretic, so be it! I’ll live with that!

Little Miss Marvel

Ms. Marvel’s the Disney+ MCU show I’ve been looking forward to most. Not only is the lead Canadian, hence representation, she’s also young and not another white person. Additionally, her story reflects the youths’ experience, and she isn’t exclusively tied to previous lore. Like Kate Bishop in Hawkeye, Kamala Khan’s the future of the franchise. That’s exciting.

I say this in light of recent information. A picture of Ms. Marvel was recently leaked, and it’s…something. I like her costume a lot, but there’s one detail that rubbed me the wrong way: her fists are energy-based, as opposed to elastic. Considering that Kamala’s comic trait is stretching like silly putty, that’s really odd. It doesn’t help that early rumours suggest she’s a genie, which has rubbed other people the wrong way.

Now, I’m no expert on this controversy. I’m Jewish, so I lack the appropriate insight into why this is offensive. However, I’m disappointed that attempts at scrubbing Marvel characters of their Jewish roots-Spider-Man, Moon Knight, Scarlett Witch, to name a few-haven’t received as much backlash. (Neither has able-washing Professor X by having two able-bodied actors play him.) I guess Jews are no longer considered a minority in Hollywood?

Anyway, I don’t mean to demean the backlash. Making Kamala Khan into an energy genie, aside from being uncreative, isn’t the way to go. Genies lack agency, are slaves and serve as wish-fulfillment for others. Having the first Muslim super-heroine be one is a slap in the face. Or maybe it’s a punch?

Regardless, I’m disappointed. I’m also disappointed because I don’t know why the higher-ups felt this, of all the concepts they’ve executed thus far, was a deal-breaker. Why is Kamala Khan having stretchy hands bad? Is it “too silly”? Because The MCU has a talking raccoon and a giant tree that repeats its name constantly. It also has a green monster and a rock troll. This ignores the dozens of other weird choices. Stretchy hands aren’t even that weird considering Mr. Fantastic is making his way to The MCU soon.

Additionally, this feels like a step back for representation. The Mandarin, for example, was always going to be tough to adapt because of his racist history, yet Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings pulled it off. Ditto for M’baku in Black Panther. If The MCU could make these characters functional, then why go backwards with Kamala Khan? I don’t understand.

I wouldn’t be as disappointed if The MCU didn’t have a “too big for its own good” aura constantly looming over it. The franchise has constantly expanded, and while some entries have been lesser, it’s yet to completely collapse. Even Iron Fist and The Inhumans, arguably the weakest links, haven’t tipped the scales completely. It’s bad enough that this aura’s lurking without the added racism.

Additionally, if this fails, detractors will resume the revisionism they keep flaunting. It’s annoying even without the added tone-deafness, and having a legitimate issue would be unbearable! I remember the “Is it dead?” discourse that circulated with Thor: The Dark World and The Avengers: Age of Ultron, and how insufferable it was at the time. In both cases, the franchise rebounded quickly. I can only imagine how much worse it’d be if Ms. Marvel ends up being the project that tanks everything.

I’m not saying that because of the naysayers. I like The MCU! It has problems, but it’s also responsible for generating hype for comic book properties no one cared about in large numbers otherwise. (Most people thought Iron Man was a robot before Iron Man.) If Kamala Khan’s debut ends up a disaster, can you imagine the tarnished reputation? How many comic fans would be crushed by that? It may not matter to most of you, but for Muslim fans it’d be huge if their shot at representation was blown!

Now, does this change mean I’m no longer excited for Ms. Marvel? No! As stated earlier, this is a young, fresh character in a franchise with mostly white ones. Like Black Panther and Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, I’m hopeful that this’ll move The MCU in positive direction. Also, if any franchise deserves some trust by now, it’s The MCU! I doubt I’m alone there.

That doesn’t mean I’m not disappointed, though. It’s one issue for Kamala’s fighting style to be changed to energy beams, even if elasticity might be “hard to do in live-action”. But it’s another to make her a genie and remove her agency. The former’s lame, but the latter’s insulting, and The MCU’s first Muslim super-heroine deserves better. She deserves the same respect Tony Stark had in 2008. Not getting that’s irritating and a missed opportunity.

So yeah, I’m unhappy, even if I’m not the best source for why. Does this mean Ms. Marvel will suck? Not necessarily, as I’ve seen lamer work before. Am I still excited? Yes, why wouldn’t I be? But that doesn’t mean I’m not disappointed, assuming it’s legitimate (you never know). And if I have to justify why, well…I think I did a good job. I only hope I’m, once again, not alone.

The Bondian Legacy

I’ve been mixed about writing my thoughts on No Time to Die for almost a week. Not only because the movie left me with plenty to ponder, but also because my second piece on The Whitly-Verse was about Spectre. Since I trashed that film, I wasn’t sure I’d be ready for positivity about another Daniel Craig James Bond movie. But I’ll give it a go anyway. Be prepared for spoilers.

I’m not the biggest fan of the James Bond franchise. The early movies, while well-made, have aged badly, while many of the later entries are so bonkers they lost any semblance of coherency. Even GoldenEye, which was fine, was followed by three really boring sequels, and I was turned off again with Die Another Day. The only ones I’ve attached to were Daniel Craig’s, and even then two were garbage. I think it’s because Craig’s Bond was the first time I felt like the character was more than a cold-blooded killer. He was human, wounded and tragic, three traits I never thought I’d see.

I should elaborate on that last part. Craig’s tenure has been hit-or-miss, that much I can’t deny, but at its best it’s always been tragic. Not because Bond himself witnesses someone close to him die, but because the character has allowed himself vulnerability. In Casino Royale, Bond falls for someone who breaks his heart and drowns. In Skyfall, he witnesses M, someone he respected as a maternal figure, die in his arms. And now, in No Time to Die, Bond has reconcile his desire for a regular life with the enemies his job creates, causing him to sacrifice his own life.

I mention these three movies because they made me cry. James Bond has 25 canonical movies, all ranging in quality, but these were the only ones to move me emotionally. You can take away the scores, the (mostly) brilliant theme songs and the action, but if I don’t care about the hero, well…what’s the point? You might as well make James Bond into John McClane, and even then that undersells the latter. I mean that wholeheartedly.

What made Craig’s Bond run so interesting, even when his movies were frustrating, was that he evolved the persona beyond what was expected. Sean Connery started it, but he was the suave gentleman of The Cold War Era. George Lazenby made him into a tragic lover, but not much was explored. Roger Moore’s take was way too cartoony, while Timothy Dalton was too extreme. And then there was Pierce Brosnan, who fit the role well, but never took significant risks.

Daniel Craig’s Bond took a little of everything that worked from his predecessors: the suaveness of Connery, the tragedy of Lazenby, the silliness of Moore, the extremeness of Dalton and the tailor fit appearance of Brosnan. He also made that into someone I could relate to. For the first time, I actually could see the thought process behind the man. He wasn’t a prop, but rather a person who had a lot to juggle. And his movies were aware of this, with all of them tying together.

I say that with no irony. Take the Bond-ness out of Craig’s portrayal, and you still have a satisfying story about an assassin whose attempts at opening up keep ending badly. This is a man who’s seen literal Hell, yet keeps wanting connections. He’s witnessed people he cared about die-his parents, his girlfriend, his mother-figure, his best friend-and while it’s hurt him, he hasn’t given up that need for intimacy. He’s human. And I didn’t get that with the previous iterations.

It helps that Craig’s had excellent people to bounce off of. These individuals have felt equally human, and in some cases received given arcs of their own. This is especially true with Madelaine Swann, whose backstory’s opens No Time to Die. I was shocked by that when I sat down in the theatre for the first time since March of 2020: like the opening of Casino Royale, I’d never seen this before from James Bond. Was I watching the right movie?

In hindsight, it was intentional. Craig’s Bond established itself as unique out the gate, and having a side-character be the focus continued that. It helped that this was the longest timeframe of any Bond movie before the opening credits, which were complimented by Billie Eilish’s haunting, soft-spoken vocals. It’s a bit of waiting, but it’s worth it. Because like Casino Royale’s black-and-white opening, this was leading to something important.

The kicker is that this is the finale to Craig’s tenure. And he did that gloriously! Not only were there fireworks (or explosions, in this case), there was also an emotional hook. This Bond is a tired Bond. He’s had enough pain and suffering to last him a lifetime, and he wants no more. It’ll mean breaking someone else’s heart for a change, but if it ends the pain, so be it. Like a wounded deer, he’s ready to be put out of his misery.

I also like how this movie delved into Bond’s parental side. For the first time in Bond history, he’s allowed to be a dad. I wasn’t fully-sold on Matilda, I didn’t feel like she had much to do, but her interactions with Craig were genuine anyway. And considering how young she was, and how hard it is to get good performances from child actors, that’s impressive. It also added emotional stakes outside of saving the world, something we’ve seen ad nauseam by now.

Is this to be the best of the Craig era? No. Aside from minor pacing issues at the beginning, as well as an underdeveloped villain and a plot MacGuffin that needed consistency, the film feels over-ambitious. It not only has to cap off everything, it also has to wrap up the Vesper Lynd story and the Spectre thread. It does an admirable job, but even at nearly three hours it falls somewhat short.

Yet I enjoyed it anyway. It lacks the freshness of Casino Royale or the meta-introspection of Skyfall, but No Time to Die is still a satisfying conclusion to a mostly-great run. It also has one of the most-satisfying “black woman kills white man” moments to-date. Seriously, my entire theatre applauded at that point, myself included! And it was earned!

The debate over Bond never ends: which one’s the best? Who’s the best Bond? Which movie has the best theme? Who should play the character next? Personally, the only question I’m interested in has already been answered, but I also don’t care. Craig’s Bond was moving in a way other Bonds weren’t, and if that ends up as a one-off, so be it!